


Reunion

by Trigger Finger (NatashaCole)



Category: Louden Swain RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 17:38:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16100522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NatashaCole/pseuds/Trigger%20Finger
Summary: She isn’t sure she can keep holding on to a love that comes and goes. Maybe he can remind her why it’s worth holding on to.





	Reunion

She found herself waiting for him again. It was clockwork really. He’d come home for a few days at a time, and she knew that before they could get too comfortable, he would be gone again. But, she was always waiting. 

After a couple of years of the same old routine, it had begun to nag at her. She thought about it constantly; his absence, the bitterness that she felt toward him for not being around. Tonight, it was the only thing weighing on her mind as he returned home, even as they tried to ease back into a sense of normal that they had all but forgotten.

Despite her silence that he knew could only mean one thing, he still tried to make it a nice night. He had been gone for days, and all he wanted was to be with her. He was only worried that her coldness toward him would eventually lead to something else.

 

“There’s only a bottle of red left, I hope that’s okay,” he explained as he retrieved the last bottle of wine, grabbing two glasses before making his way back to the table.

“It’s been a rough week,” she explained. She watched him as he opened the bottle, placing the cork on the table, not even once glancing in her direction.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore,” she said as he poured he a glass of wine. The words came almost too easily. They had been on her mind for some time; building up until it was almost too much to handle anymore. It didn’t phase him though. He only finished pouring her glass before turning to focus on his own.

“Do what?” He asked finally as he set the bottle down, taking his seat across from her.

“This whole, finally having you home for a few days after being away for a week, only to have to sit back and watch you pack again.”

“What has changed?”

“Nothing. That’s the problem. It’s always the same. You go away to God knows where, surrounded by God knows who… I never know what you’re doing, who you’re with, where you are half the time.”

“That’s my job. That’s been my job for as long as you’ve known me.”

“I know,” she said softly, “I think it’s just become too much.”

She picked up the wine glass, staring off at if for some time before taking a sip. He followed her movement, each of them sitting in silence for a while, taking in the heaviness of the discussion that was going to take place.

“Why is this an issue now?”

“I’ve been… so patient. Through this entire relationship I’ve sat around, waiting for you. When you’re gone, I’m just so alone, trying to keep myself busy so I don’t think about you. And then I get you back for just a little while, and each time you have to leave again is harder than the last time.”

He let out a deep sigh, leaning back into his chair as he took a much longer drink from his glass. He averted his gaze from her, unable to look at her now that there were tears welling up in her eyes. He knew this had been difficult on her, it had been the downfall to every relationship he had ever had. 

“Do you remember the first time we met?” He asked suddenly. She looked up at him, eyes wet with tears as he continued to stare at his glass, thumbing along the rim. He was wearing a crooked smile now, his laugh lines prominent at the corner of his eyes as he smiled at the memory.

“I do,” she replied. A small smile formed on her own face now. 

“You were wearing that dangerous black dress, the one I like. You were carrying drinks to your table that night, the one you sat at with all of your friends while we played on stage. Do you remember that? I think I was making my way to the bar and neither of us were watching where we were going…”

“And you ran right into me,’ she giggled. He glanced up at her, smiling wider when he saw her eyes watching him softly.

“I still uphold that you ran into me.”

“Either way, you ended up with beer poured all down the front of your shirt.”

“Yeah, and you were so cute the way you panicked.”

“Well, I had just poured beer on the lead singer of the band that was playing.” He took in her laugh, like a song that he had almost forgotten the words to. He hadn’t heard her laugh in a long time, and right now, he savoured it.

“But, you got a towel from the bar and cleaned me up. And I ended up sitting there at your table with you, soaking wet and smelling like beer.”

“We talked for a really long time.”

“I still believe that I fell in love with you the second you ran into me. How long before you knew you were in love with me?”

“I’ve already told you,” she muttered, slightly embarrassed at the idea of bringing up the past.

“I want to hear it again. I’ll never get tired of hearing it.”

“I knew you were trouble as soon as I set eyes on you while you were on stage. Before the beer incident.”

He seemed pleased by her answer, taking another long sip of his wine. 

“Do you remember the first time I kissed you?” He asked.

She felt her breath catch. If there was any memory that could bring on the butterflies, it was that particular one. She could feel the tears well up again; aching over the memory and how it seemed so distant now, especially as they sat here discussing the possibility of everything ending. He gauged her feelings easily, reaching his hand across the table to take hers. His hand was rough but gentle against her skin. She stared down at her hand in his.

“I do,” she whispered.

“Tell me,” he urged, blue eyes staring into her almost desperate, “I want to hear it.”

“It was our second date,” she began, “you took me out to dinner and we talked all night. I remember laughing and just feeling so comfortable with you. And you walked me home. You asked if you could kiss me, and I said yes. So you did.”

“And?”

“And what? It was a kiss.”

“Well, I have very vivid memories of what it was like for me. Tell me how you felt.”

“I think we’ve done this before.”

“Yeah, we have. But, I think I need to hear it again,” he leaned his elbows on the table, resting his face in his hand as he watched her intently. 

“All that I had thought about that night was your lips, how they might feel against mine. I had hoped that you’d make the move, and you did. It was soft at first. The second your lips met mine, my stomach flipped. It was as if I was kissing someone for the very first time. Or, maybe it was just the only kiss that ever mattered. And you deepened the kiss, and I remember the way my knees buckled and you had to hold me up. The only other time I ever felt like my head was swimming like that is when…”

“You’d break out a bottle of your favorite wine?”

“Yeah,” she chuckled, “it was like being drunk, in the best way possible. I wanted to kiss you forever.”

With that, he stood up, moving toward her and taking her hands in his. He pulled her gently from her chair, wrapping his arms around her waist as he brought his lips to hers finally. He couldn't be sure that this was exactly the same, but the whole point was to reenact that first kiss. The whole point was to remind her why she had loved him in the first place, remind her of what it has been like in the beginning. 

He took her in; the feel of her wine stained lips against his, the remnants of the bitter alcohol lingering on her tongue with a hint of sweetness.

Judging from the way she melted into him, pressing back eagerly against his mouth, he had assumed that he had succeeded.

“Then kiss me forever,” he whispered against her lips. He pulled back, allowing his face to rest into the crook of her neck where he placed soft kisses against her skin. He breathed in her scent, trying his hardest to memorize it now that was afraid that he might be losing her.

“Let's go to bed,” he muttered against her. More than anything, he wanted to keep her in this moment; with the memories still fresh in her mind, the kiss still lingering on her lips. He wanted her to stay wrapped up in what they used to be, at least for tonight.

She nodded against him; her hand running gently along his jawline, stopping only on the gray patch of his beard that she had grown to adore so much. He led her to the bedroom with only the thought of making her remember why she had waited for him this entire time to begin with.

They left the half-empty bottle, their empty glasses, and the mention of this relationship being too much; behind them. Some things were more important right now.

* * *

 

Two days later, she sat on the edge of the bed while she watched him pack again. Her mind ran wild as she watched him focus. He was going to Pittsburgh or Jacksonville; to be honest, she had stopped paying attention. Where he was didn't matter to her, all that did matter was that he'd be gone again.

“It's only three days this time,” he explained, “I'll be home before you know it.”

“What makes you think I’ll be waiting for you this time?” She asked, a hint of bitterness in her tone.

He noticed the look of hurt in her eyes, more prominent now than it had ever been in the past.

“It will be your birthday,” he reminded her. He dropped what he was doing, moving to her where he kneeled in front of her as she sat at the edge of the bed. He took her face in his hands, pulling her in for a kiss. “I’ve made plans. It will be perfect, trust me.”

She did want to trust him; but as she watched him walk away yet again, she couldn’t help but wonder what he would be doing while he was gone. 

 

She tried to keep her mind off of him for the first day. It was never easy. He invaded her thoughts constantly. Sometimes, it was her own thoughts about how much she missed him, other times, it was her own securities that made her doubt him. She had trusted him for this long, but surely him being away so much wasn’t easy on him either. 

By day three, she was a lot more lonely. She opened a bottle of wine that she had bought earlier, set on drinking the thoughts of him away. It was getting old, trying to force herself into feeling less sad, less lonely. Honestly, it wasn’t working anyway. She drank until there was nothing left, and in the early morning hours, she sent him a text. Her face tingled due to the bottle of wine, eyes red and bloodshot from the tears she had cried yet again.  _ “I miss you.”  _

She didn’t even intend to wait for his reply, she usually never got one. She was sad and angry again. Angry at the fact that he was willing to leave every time, sad that she kept herself always waiting for him. This time, he did reply. Her blurry eyes tried to focus on the text;  _ “I miss you too.” _

It should have been a relief really. But, she cried herself to sleep that night, angry now at how unfair it all was.

 

The next time he returned home, he brought gifts. It was her birthday after all. He watched her, grinning as she opened the small box. She looked up at him, mouth turned up at the corners upon seeing the bracelet that sat within, accompanied by a note:

_ “Put on that black dress; the one that I like, and your favorite heels. Tonight is all about you.” _

She did just that as he showered. She slipped that dress on, the one that she hadn’t worn in a very long time. She slipped on her heels, suddenly feeling excited; the way she had in the beginning when he would take her out. She slipped her new bracelet onto her wrist before finishing her look off with her wine-red lipstick.

She waited for him in the living room, anxious for the first time in years. He was trying so hard and she was still filled with doubts. When he entered the room, he too was dressed up. It was a far-cry from his usual jeans, t-shirt, and Converse. Tonight he had put on a pair of slacks and dress shoes, pulling on a waistcoat as he entered the room. His dark curls were combed back, tamed compared to how they normally sat atop his head; his glasses, perched atop his nose. She breathed in sharply upon seeing him like this. He had grown better looking with age; a lot grayer than what he used to be, but somehow, younger at heart. While she admired him, standing to approach him to help him adjust his waistcoat; he in turn, couldn't take his eyes off of her.

“Look at you,” he muttered, blue eyes looking her up and down as she fixed the collar of his white button up.

“I’m surprised this still fits,” she replied, referring to the dress that she had worn the first time they had met.

“Don’t be surprised.”

“I’m getting old,” she chuckled, letting her hands linger against his chest.

“You’re still so beautiful, so perfect,” he replied. He wrapped his arms around her, leaning in to kiss her softly. He only wanted to remind her that he still loved her. Even after all this time, she was the only thing that he saw, and it was always perfect.

 

Dinner wasn’t the usual enjoyable time that they had together. The fact that she had said she couldn’t do this anymore just days earlier still remained on their minds. She sat there, drinking her wine, as she thought of what to say. He waited for it; the inevitable blow that was sure to come up again. They were twenty-five minutes into her birthday dinner and already through a bottle of wine when it finally came.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she reiterated. “I can’t keep waiting for you like this.”

He sat there, silent as he took in her words again. He knew this was hard on her, it was hard on him too. Nothing about this was fair. But, he had to try to remind her why they had stuck it out this entire time in the first place.

“Do you know how I get through work every time that I’m away?” He asked after a while. She looked up at him, slightly frustrated that he was ignoring her pleas, her pain.

“No,” she responded flatly.

“I pretend that I never met you.”

She didn’t look pleased by this. He watched as tears welled up in her eyes again, seemingly hurt by his words.

“It’s easier… less painful that way,” he continued. “It doesn’t work, but I try whatever I can to make it hurt less. Because it does hurt when I leave you, and I know it hurts you too.”

“Maybe it’s easier if we just walk away from it.”

“Give up?” He asked, pained over the fact that this was still on her mind.

“There doesn’t seem to be much left to hold on to.”

“Do you remember what you always told me in the beginning? When we started this and I had to go away?” He asked.

“Yes,” she muttered.

“You told me that I had to be stronger. You told me that I had to do what I had to do, and I had to be the strong one.”

“I did,” she replied. She glanced down at her wine glass, rolling the words over in her mind.

“You told me I had to keep trying.”

“Yes, but maybe after a while there’s nothing left worth trying for.”

“I’m still trying,” he breathed out. “I’m still here, and I’m still trying.”

She watched him now; aching over the pain present on his face. She knew she had been selfish. Surely it hadn’t been any easier for him, but it was her own loneliness and bitterness that she had focused on this whole time. She began to cry now; realizing a lot of things. This was hard on both of them, but she also knew that he would be gone in a few days. It would be a vicious cycle that never ended with them. He could sit here and try all he wanted, it didn’t change the fact that he would leave her alone again and again. 

“Please don’t cry,” he said, reaching across the table for her hand again. She grasped onto it, desperate to hold on even if she believed there was nothing left to hold onto. “I know it’s been lonely for you, it’s been the same for me. But, the only thing that gets me through being away from you is knowing that in a few days, I’ll get to come home and see that pretty face. I know I’ll return to you, and it makes it all a little easier. It’s still the same. I miss you so much, but I’m always so happy to come back to you. Have you just stopped feeling that for me?”

“No,” she muttered, “of course not. I still love you. Now, it’s just that you come home and all I can think about the whole time you’re here is how you’ll be gone again.”

“What is it like for you when I leave and then come back?”

She was quiet for some time, thinking hard about how to answer him properly. There were a hundred different ways to describe the feeling of him leaving. What he wanted now was for her to explain what it was like when he came home to her.

“It’s like everything I’ve ever lost, coming back to me all at once.”

“You know,” he began, offering her a small smile, “when I’m gone and I come back to you; it’s like coming back to my home. Not my literal home, but the place where my heart belongs. I think that’s why I haven’t given up on this. I’d be lost without you.”

“I don’t think it will ever get easier though.”

“You’re right,” he replied, “but, for me, it’s worth a little bit of loneliness if it means I still get to come home to you.”

“You’re trying to make me stay,” she pointed out.

He stood from his chair suddenly, moving towards her as he pulled her from her chair again. This time he wrapped an arm around her waist, still holding one hand in his as he began to move her in a slow dance. She looked at him, confused now, but still following his lead as they danced.

“There’s no music,” she told him.

“There doesn’t have to be,” he said softly, “all that needs to be here, right now; is you and I.”

She said nothing. She simply rested her head against his shoulder as he continued to move her in their silent dance. She took a moment to memorize the way he felt against her, the way he was trying so hard to hold on to her. She thought about how selfish she had been. It was never that she wanted to leave him, all she really wanted was to be reminded of why she had held onto him for so long.

“Do you remember the first time we danced like this?” He whispered against her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

She nodded, closing her eyes as she thought back. She absentmindedly ran her thumb against her wedding band, recalling their wedding day.

“I remember how beautiful you looked on that day; how you walked down that aisle toward me.”

“I remember how nervous you looked when I finally got to you,” she grinned against his chest, “how you fumbled through your vows.”

“Do you remember the song?” He asked, pressing her to relive the moment.

“I do,” you replied. You began to hum the song quietly as he continued to dance with you. You were sure the guests at the restaurant were staring at this point, but you no longer cared as you found yourself lost in the moment with him.

“And I held you… just like this,” he said as he pulled her closer to him, hand gripping tighter on her back almost as if he were afraid to let her go.

“Yes,” she hummed, feeling a sudden sense of comfort being in his arms like this, “and you told me you wanted to hold me like this forever.”

“Look at us,” he chuckled, “all these years later, and I’m still holding you like this.”

The tears had been building up again as he walked her through the memory of their wedding. Now, you let them fall when you realized that he had been trying so hard this whole time. All that she had given him lately was a guilt trip; a sense of disappointment over the fact that she was the one talking about letting it all go. She held him tighter, still thinking back to how perfect it had all been. Maybe it wasn’t so perfect now, but it was what they had. 

“Do you remember what I told you?” He asked.

“I-I don’t think so..” she trailed off, thinking hard about what he might be referring to. She honestly couldn’t recall.

“I told you that I would love you forever,” he pulled back from her, eyes studying her intently, “and I meant it. I love you now, and I will love you even if you really think that you can’t stay.”

Her breath caught at his words, choking up when she saw the tears in his own eyes. She had almost forgotten their vows and what all of it had meant then and what it meant now. She felt completely caught off guard now that he was here to remind her. But, maybe that was what she had needed all along. She bit her lip, considering her options now. It didn’t seem like much, but a lot had changed tonight. Any sense of loneliness and bitterness that she held against him had all but melted away. Instead, she found herself lost in a sea of happier times; of memories of how and why they had ended up here to begin with. She realized that it would never be easy, but there had always been a reason why they held on to each other and looked forward to each reunion. Maybe love wasn’t supposed to be easy. Maybe it was meant for them to fight for each other. Maybe it was important to miss each other.

“Take me home,” she muttered, running her hand down his chest as he held her, “let me have you tonight, because I’m going to miss you when you leave again.”

“You know I’ll always come back, right?”

“I know you will,” she replied.

They ignored their half-eaten meal; paying the bill and leaving behind an empty bottle and two half-drunk glasses of wine as they walked out of there hand-in-hand. It certainly wasn’t like her to leave behind a good glass of wine; but some things were too important to ignore right now.

 


End file.
